


Believe in this Love of Mine

by supergrover24



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: picfor1000, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supergrover24/pseuds/supergrover24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A week apart is a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Believe in this Love of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Randy Newman for the song (and to Tom Jones for being the version I hear in my head). Also thanks to femmequixotic for telling me to write Harry/Draco and for her beta. (And to slodwick for running the picfor1000 challenge!)
> 
> The photo that I was given is from [here](http://bighugelabs.com/onblack.php?id=4197452282).

It was snowing, a fine snow that came down so quick that the grass and walkways were already coated with a dusting of white. Draco much preferred the big fat flakes, the fluffy ones that stuck to your lashes and reminded him of the early days at Hogwarts when life was simpler

Not that life was ever simple back then. Or now. But, at the wise age of eleven he’d at least known his place in society and the world. He was Draco Malfoy, for Christ’s sake.

He was still Draco Malfoy, even if the occasional whisper behind his back when he walked down the streets in Hogmeade implied otherwise. He might not know his exact place in the world anymore, but he was twenty-four and not dead. That had to count for something.

Draco glanced at his watch, then back out the window, taking in the darkening sky and the hazy glow of the streetlamps as they illuminated the ever-faster fall of snow. Six o’clock, and he was peering out through the part in the drapes, waiting, again. Granted, he was back from Bulgaria hours ahead of schedule and hadn’t bothered to owl, so the waiting was his own fault. Not that he’d ever admit that aloud. Instead would fake petulance and annoyance that would be met with real amusement and fake groveling.

Hopefully, it would culminate in a partially-clothed frantic shag on the runner.

He stared blankly at the entryway rug, the brown and grey pattern blurred before his eyes. It was new, and Draco had helped Harry pick it out, during a dreadfully long day in the finer home stores of London. Not that Draco had minded, though he’d never admit it. There was something amusing about watching Harry voice his objections to hand- knotted wool and meticulously dyed threads, only to select a common runner off the rack. It didn’t even require special ordering, Draco had scoffed. Harry insisted it was perfect because it would hide the dirt and Draco’s reminder of house elves and cleaning spells fell on deaf ears. Still, there was a smile on Draco’s face as he knelt to realign the carpet with the door.

When he looked through the window once more, Harry was there, standing like an idiot in the snow, gazing at the sky. Draco waited, wondering what had caught Harry’s attention, but after a minute, he had to admit that he’d reached the bottom of his reserve of patience and quietly opened the door.

The cold slammed into Draco and he hurriedly cast a warming spell to ward off the worst of the chill. The snow fell around him, flakes melting as they landed on his clothes. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, and he couldn't stop the small smile that had made a habit of coming out whenever Harry was being particularly adorable. Or most anytime, really. Except when Draco found him particularly hot. A different look tended to come out then.

"Draco!" Harry was standing with his arms spread, grinning at him. "Why are you all the way over there? Wait, why aren't you still in Bulgaria?"

"I finished up early and was able to get the Portkey adjusted." Draco stayed against the door, watching the snow land on Harry's ridiculous red hat. "Where did you get that hat, Potter? A gift from the Mother Weasel?"

Harry reached up and tugged on one of the braided tassels that hung next to his cheek, like he'd forgotten it was there. "Nope. Saw it in a shop window and liked it. There's a ball on top." He smirked and walked toward Draco. "Miss me?"

"Not at all, Potter. The week flew by," Draco drawled, not moving from the doorway. "What about you? Did you miss me?"

"First time we've been apart since we got together? No, not so much." Harry stood before him and reached out, cupping Draco's cheek with his wet mittens, red and white striped but obviously a match to the hat. "I didn't miss you at all."

Draco gave in, grabbed the tassels, and yanked Harry closer, slamming their lips together. Harry's mouth parted instantly and Draco couldn't hold back his groan as he slid his tongue into Harry's mouth, finally, as he'd wanted to do since the moment he had left, six and a half days ago. He let go of the hat and cupped Harry's jaw, curling around the back of Harry's neck, fingertips searching for the curls that he knew hid under the mop of hair.

Harry sighed into Draco's mouth and Draco pushed closer, his elbows pressed awkwardly between their chests. He couldn't get near enough to Harry; he felt as though he could be stuck to him with Spello-tape and it still wouldn't be enough.

Draco pulled back slightly, smiling against Harry's mouth as he tried to follow, dropping a series of close-mouthed kisses against Harry's lips.

"The spell has worn off, and I'm cold," Draco whispered. "Look, you can see my breath. That's not right, Potter."

"What, you won't let me keep you warm?" Harry tilted his head up slightly, brushed his nose along Draco's jaw. Draco shivered, the warmth of Harry's lips causing gooseflesh to break out on his chilled skin. "All right, I can take a hint," Harry said with a chuckle, and Draco couldn't hold back his full body shake at the feeling.

"Inside, Harry. Now." Draco pulled gently on one of the stupid red tassels again, and let out the grin he'd been hiding since he first saw Harry standing in the snow.

Harry kissed Draco once more, too hard and all too brief, before he settled his hands on Draco's hips and walked him backward into the house.

"We should go upstairs." Harry laughed as they tripped over the runner and almost fell.

"Here's fine with me, actually." Draco caught Harry's mouth with his again and pulled him down to the floor. "Get the door, Potter. And leave your hat on."


End file.
